Post by hawkeye on Aug 3, 2020 0:09:53 GMT
The Red, White and Bruised crowd have been looking to the rafters since entering the FAWN arena, at the looming steel structure that hangs there. The sirens wail and the cage begins moving down slowly, the sides fold down as it moves into position
DROP THE CAGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mM0QCRaFKzU
An army of ring crew rush forward as the Cage settles into place, they begin lashing the structure to the ring making sure it stays secure. It takes only a few minutes before the head crew many turns and gives the thumbs-up signal, and referee Al Carpenter climbs the stairs and begins inspecting the inside area. Outside FAWN referee’s Merle and Reginald Ashley Worthington III inspect the outside, Reg carries the thick chain and lock that will secure the only door once the combatants enter.
The crowd at Red, White, and Bruised gets on their feet when the lights shift and smoke begins to roll across the stage like a fog. On the FAWNtron the arid image of a desert scene is quickly filled by time-lapse growth of Desert Flowers. The fans are put in the mind of a Bazaar in Morocco by the unmistakable music that heralds the arrival of the Desert Flower.
Desert Ecstasy:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgDIUNOV6dI
Desert Ecstasy is exactly what the Jewel of Jordan is. The arena darkened and colored lights swing around wildly and, emerging from a puff cloud of smoke, the Desert Flower, Princess Alia Saad member of the royal family of Jordan, appears on the stage. For her battle tonight, Alia’s shapely frame was clad in a brown vest over a two-tone brown bikini with Arabic scrolled on the seat of her bottoms in a deep, arterial red. Her pads are a similar red, as are her brown boots with Arabic scrolled along the side. The Desert Flower ignores the jeers and boos of the fans as they are the common rabble beneath her station.
The Ring Announcer makes the introduction, “This next match is a CAGE MATCH! To a Pin Fall or Submission, the Cage will not be opened for ten minutes after the victor is declared. Introducing first, From Amman, Jordan…She stands 5 foot 3 inches tall and weighs in tonight at 121 pounds…She is the Jewel of Jordan…The Desert Flower…ALIA SAAD!”
ALIA SAAD:
The Arabian beauty’s hips swaying and bosom jiggling as she makes her way down the ramp. Fans hold signs out, taunting the Desert Flower, “Alejandra’s gonna Crush YOU!", but still the Jordanian gives no sign she’s even aware the masses are in attendance. Alia’s dark eyes locked on the ring as she makes a lap around the steel structure, her pace measured and calm, but not slow. Her long dark hair hangs loose over her shoulders. She finishes her lap and only now turns to the FAWNatics and gives them a dismissive smirk. The Desert Flower shrugs the vest off and folds it neatly before handing it over to the ring attendant standing nearby.
Climbing the steps to the ring apron, Alia wipes her boots before entering the door. With just enough room to walk, she moves to the center of the ropes and waits. Al, having completed his inspection of the structure, moves over and opens the ropes for the Princess. That does get him a nod of approval from the Royal. Saad strolls around the ring, checking the steel with her eyes as she readies to face the Puerto Rican Powerhouse again, in this final match of their feud.
As the music shifts from enchanting Arabic tones to the bouncing beat of Caribbean rock, the patriotic crowd pops hard as the FAWNtron fills with the colors of the Puerto Rican flag before exploding into digital fireworks.
SOY YO:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxWxXncl53U
As Alia’s opponent bursts into the view, the announcer’s voice booms across the arena. “Annnnd her opponent, from Bayamón, Puerto Rico… at 5 foot 4 inches and 136 pounds… the Puerto Rican Spitfire… ALEJANDRA ALICEA!”
ALEJANDRA ALICEA:
To the delight of the FAWNatics, Alejandra Alicea bursts through the red, white, and blue curtains and onto the entrance ramp. As always, the bronzed beauty is in incredible shape, something she puts on display as she shakes out her raven tresses and spreads her chiseled arms to the crowd. Though she still has a smile for the crowd, her jaw is set and her eyes narrowed as she scans over the immense metal structure in which she’ll do battle with the Jewel of Jordan.
Alicea pauses as she usually does when she enters the ring, but this time, it isn’t as much for the fans to appreciate her physique as it is to gather her strength of will. After three months of clashes, this match will prove, one way or the other, who will come out on top in a definitive fashion, and she questions for just a moment what will happen. If she wins, what exactly will she do to Alia to repay what humiliation she has inflicted on her… and if Alejandra loses, can she stay strong through whatever Saad’s sadistic mind has in store?
If the crowd sees that moment of introspection, they don’t care, no doubt focused on the exotic beauty’s fit body on display for their appreciation. She is decked out in her traditional ring gear: a halter-type style sports top that hugs her breasts with the motif of the Puerto Rican flag while highlighting her sculpted back and shoulders and high-cut blue Lycra shorts that show off her washboard abs and powerful legs. Short wrestling boots, taped wrists, and bicep bands, the right side red and the left side white, round out her apparel.
With a sharp breath, the Spitfire pulls herself out of her own head and simply focuses on the steel cage and her opponent. She breaks into a jog, clapping outstretched hands with the fans as she goes, and as she makes it to ringside, Alicea gets an extra bit of time to connect with the fans as she makes her way to the one entrance into the imposing steel cage. Merle holds the door open for her, and she gives him a nod as she walks up the ring steps and into the cage.
As Alejandra slips through the ring ropes, Merle closes up the cage door while Reginald gets to work, ensuring the entrance is well-chained. As opposed to her usual entrance, Alejandra doesn’t mount a turnbuckle to flex to the crowd. Instead, her fierce gaze never leaves Alia as she simply backs into her corner to stretch out her toned body. It looks as if the Caribbean Crush is focused entirely on business tonight, and considering what is at stake, it might be the wisest decision that the rookie can make.
Not that the cage isn’t different enough, but it comes with some different rules, so Al calls Alia and Alejandra from their corners. Al gives a nod and launches into an explanation of the changes for this match, “Ladies, you both agreed to this, but I’m going to go over the rules a final time. This is no disqualification, no holds barred. I’ll be here just to count pinfalls and to judge a submission by verbal, tap, or knockout. There are no rope or corner breaks, you’ll just have to find your own way out of those. The Cage is in play, but leaving the cage does not count as winning the match, it must be a pinfall or submission. Any questions?”
The Puerto Rican Powerhouse and the Desert Flower remain silent and begin backing towards their corners glaring at each other. Al takes a deep breath. “Good talk,” he says to no one.
DING! DING! DING!
At the sound of the bell, Alejandra charges out of her corner straight for the smaller woman. Alia, bouncing on her toes, circles, making the Caribbean Crush give chase. Circling, Alejandra tries cutting off the ring, but the Desert Flower is too quick to be cornered. The bigger woman slows going into a stalking mode. Finally, Alia closes in with arms raised, and the pair come together in a collar and elbow tie up. Instantly Alejandra’s power takes over, and while Alia struggles to keep her at bay, the Caribbean Crush marches the Jewel of Jordan into a corner. Alicea presses her body against Saad’s going chest to chest with the Princess.
The Puerto Rican Powerhouse growls, “I could keep you pinned up here all day.”
To prove her point, Alejandra jams her left hand under Alia’s jaw, pushing her head back over the top turnbuckle and pulls her body back away from the trapped brunette’s. Letting the Princess squirm for a moment, Alicea raises her right hand and brings it down slapping Alia’s massive cleavage. The Fiery Latina delivers two more jugg shaking slaps to the Desert Flower’s petals, until the Jewel of Jordan snaps her foot up between Alejandra’s legs stopping her cold.
EEEWWWWW! The sound is almost like a wounded animal as Alicea turns and wedges both hands between her thighs. Alia presses a palm to try to calm the stinging in her breasts, but also, she wants to take advantage of her position, so she steps up on to the second rope. Leaping from above, Alia catches Alejandra around the head as she falls and bulldogs the Spitfire into the canvas.
Alia taunts the rookie, “All that fitness, and still no brains.”
Alejandra is stunned but not out of it. She rolls away from the Princess and pushes back up to her feet, her eyes on fire. “You’re just a cheating punta!”
The Desert Flower doesn’t respond. Circling again, the pair of exotic beauties reach out for each other. Alia ducks under the lock-up with surprising speed and comes up behind Alejandra with a waistlock. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse looks amused as she claps down on each Saad’s wrist and easily breaks the locked hands. Alia tries pulling away, but the iron clamp-like grip of Alicea, the Caribbean Crush, only drops one wrist before spinning under the still held arm, turning into an arm ringer.
Alia is bent over and slaps at her shoulder to keep the blood moving down the limb as she tries to find the escape hatch. Alejandra isn’t going to let that happen, she cocks her free elbow and drives it down onto the Jewel of Jordan’s shoulder. Saad cries out as she’s driven down to one knee, pushing back up to her feet only for the Caribbean Crush to repeat the move. Alia whines out in pain sent back to a knee.
Alejandra twists the limb again and asks, “How ya doin’, Princess Punta?”
To show she’s just not powerful but also agile, Alejandra runs towards the turnbuckles pulling Alia along behind her. The Spitfire runs up the pads, hitting each one and then flips backward yanking Saad with her as the Springboard Arm Drag sends the Desert Flower halfway across the squared circle.
SPRINGBOARD ARM DRAG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4gRLIi30Fk
Alejandra rolls up to her feet and pauses just for a moment. When she sees her foe start to rise, she charges, arm extending as she closes in, and flattens the rising Desert Flower with a devastating clothesline. The FAWNatics cheer the Spitfire as she runs past the flatten foe and slowly turns. Alejandra growls as she sees Alia is getting back to her feet. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse steps back to grab the bit of fabric between the Jewel’s breast and then, shocking some fans, Alejandra grabs the front of Alia’s bottoms. With little effort, Alicea snatches Saad to chest level and, with a little grunt, presses the Desert Flower.
Holding the FAWN lightweight above her head, Alejandra walks to the ropes and a quiver develops in her arms and legs, but she heaves Alia out over the top rope. The Princess slams into the cage, bounces off, hits the ropes, and then slams into the ring apron. Outside the structure, many of the FAWNatics begin a “HOLY SHIT!” chant.
It’s clear how much Alejandra wants this win with how intense she is approaching this match. She would usually take this moment to give the FAWNatics a show with a flex of her biceps, but this time, she doesn’t. Instead, she moves right towards where the Desert Flower is groaning in a heap on the apron. By the time she stomps over, Alia, showing her own resilience, tries to get back to her feet, pulling herself up by the ropes, but she’s only up to her knees when Alejandra reaches down over the top rope, grabs a handful of the exotic princess’s long tresses.
With a grunt and a pull, the Puerto Rican Powerhouse pulls up with all her might, eliciting a howl from Saad as she is painfully brought to her feet. Still, Alia isn’t out of the match yet, and when Alicea lets go to grab a hold of the Arab’s head to throw her back into the ring, the Jewel of Jordan moves with desperate speed, ducking down under the grapple and slinging her shoulder hard into the Latina’s chiseled abs. Caught off-guard, Alejandra lets out a gasp as the blow winds her for a moment, and still partly bent over the ropes, the Desert Huntress snatches the head of her prey and drops down all the way to her butt, which hotshots Alejandra’s neck and chest right over the wrapped cable.
Alicea’s head snaps back, gasping as her hands go to her damaged throat. As she tries to breathe, she turns from the ropes, unaware of Alia regaining enough of her senses to go back on the attack. Like a soaring falcon, Saad uses the same top rope that she used to neck the bigger Latina to launch herself over the top rope with a clothesline right across the back of Alicea’s head. The precision impact sends another shuddering shock through Alejandra’s neck and drops her to the mat. Alia herself hits the canvas and rolls through, but instead of immediately hopping to her feet, the exotic beauty only comes up to her hands and knees, taking a moment to regroup herself.
But not for long. Alia is not one to let an opportunity pass, and she senses she has one. She shoves herself to her feet, still aching, but that pain is forgotten when she sees that the Caribbean Crush is still on her stomach, hands around the back of her aching neck protectively. Eager to take advantage, the Jewel of Jordan moves in before Alejandra can recover, slamming a boot into her foe’s back. The attack’s double purpose becomes clear almost immediately. It not only adds to Alejandra’s pain, but it also shifts her guard away from her neck.
With Alia’s real target now open, she immediately hops up and delivers a crushing knee drop right to Alejandra’s exposed neck and back of the head. The bigger woman’s body spasms from the sick impact, but somehow, she bites back the scream of pain that should come with that kind of shot, something that only seems to infuriate Alia. After she rolls off the Latina’s neck, the Jewel of Jordan tosses back her long hair, her eyes burning with anger as she straddles the muscular back of the Puerto Rican Powerhouse.
“You stubborn, stupid infidel!” she roars as her talons curl into Alejandra’s raven locks. Alia pulls back on that hair, which, with her weight on the Latina’s back, puts pressure on her wounded neck. “I will destroy you!” Saad abruptly slams Alejandra’s head right back into the canvas to punctuate her point, then immediately yanks back again. “I will humiliate you!” Again, she shoves the stunned woman’s head right back into the hard mat, then pulls up one last time. “And then I will make you worship me!”
This time, instead of driving Alejandra’s skull back into the mat, Alia clutches her foe’s chin with one hand before quickly pulling Alicea’s powerful arms over her knees. With a moment’s adjustment, the huntress pulls her foe into a crippling Camel Clutch!
CAMEL CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwOfBWdK1kI
Al Carpenter has been standing clear of the action until now kneels out in front of Alejandra, “Alejandra, do you want to submit?”
Alia leans back in the Camel Clutch putting more strain on the Caribbean beauties neck, but through gritted teeth, Alejandra growls, “NO.”
“Stubborn as a camel,” Alia shouts and drops one hand from Alicea’s chin down to the Puerto Rican’s halter top. Alejandra hisses, and her boots drum the canvas as the Desert Flower mauls her breast and, upon finding the nipple, underneath pinches and pulls. Saad then switches hands, continuing to pull on the Powerhouse’s neck as she mauls the left breast.
The breastwork allows Alejandra to slip an arm off of Alia’s thighs, but the Jewel of Jordan cuts off that escape by grabbing both of Alicea’s wrists and standing. She then puts her boot in the middle of the broad back and, after giving the trapped woman a second to realize what is happening, Alia shoves her foot down and releases the hold on Alejandra’s wrist, curb stomping the rookie into the thinly padded boards.
Saad moves around to her stunned enemy’s side, and dropping to her knees, Alia shoots a half-nelson on Alejandra and rolls her over to her back. Reaching down with her other arm, she pulls up a muscular leg as she presses chest to chest going for the win.
ONE...
TWO…
NO!
Alejandra winces as she kicks out, but she’s still in this fight. Alia glares at Al as he holds up two fingers, but even the Jewel has to admit her foe beat the count. The Desert Flower hair hauls the Caribbean Crush to her feet. Once vertical, Alia tucks Alejandra’s head under her arm and flips Alicea’s near arm over the Jewel’s shoulders. Taking a handful of the red, white, and blue shorts at the hip, Alia clearly plans to suplex the other brunette.
Alicea is still hurting, but her head is clearer. She hooks her boot inside Alia’s leg, blocking the suplex attempt. Saad feels a hand take hold of her own bottoms at the hip, and when Alejandra moves to reverse the move, Alia tries to repeat that self-same block, but it comes a moment too late. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse hoists the Desert Flower up, stops when Alia reaches the apex, and holds her there. Inverted, the blood rushes to Alia's head making her woozy as the Caribbean Crush continues to delay the inevitable end of the Delayed Vertical Suplex.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FWT4VsKL5c
It starts slow as Alejandra begins to lean back, but then it turns into a free fall as Alia crashes into the canvas. The impact knocks the Desert Flower up into a seated position for a moment, her hand going to her spine as she sinks back to the canvas. Alejandra takes the time to catch her breath laying on the mat. When she does tilt her head to make sure Alia isn’t moving, a twinge of pain shoots through her neck.
Rolling over and crawling on all fours towards her rival, Alejandra sinks a hand into the Desert Flower’s thick mane and brings her back to vertical. Alicea pushes Alia against the ropes, saying something in her native tongue which basically means, “I hope a fish goes up you womanhood.”
After facing Alia over several months now, Alejandra feels no regrets as she pushes the Jewel of Jordan’s head back with one hand and brings the wicked open hand slap down on her cleavage with the other. The big boobs jump around Alia's chest as she hisses in pain, but Alejandra gives her no time to recover before Irish whipping the Desert Flower towards the opposite set of cables.
Alia races across the ring, turns, rebounds off the ropes, and speeds back the direction she came from. Alejandra waits, and as the Jewel hits the cables, she takes off rushing towards the smaller woman. Leaving her feet, the Caribbean Crush leads with her right shoulder slamming into Alia’s chest and knocking the Jewel of Jordan on her ass.
Not able to help herself, Alejandra gives the crowd a double bicep flex as they cheer her on. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse stands over the mewling lightweight and shouts, “Cono!”
The Bayamon native bends down taking each of Alia’s ankles in a hand and lifts her legs up into a “V” shape. Alejandra places a boot at the bottom of the ‘V’ before she falls back pulling on both legs as she grinds her boot against the Desert Flower’s delicate bud. The Princess begins wailing and clutching at her own hair, but when Al offers to stop the match, he’s greeted with much cursing, and a clear no. It only takes Alejandra a few moments to realize, as satisfying as this move is, it won’t win the match. Removing her heel from Alia’s crotch gives the Jordanian princess a moment’s respite… but that moment ends violently when the Latina leaps up with a double leg drop right into Saad’s thighs. The blow spreads the lightweight’s legs and hyperextends the hips, and as Alejandra rolls off Alia and onto her calves, the Desert Flower is left howling, knees clamped together as she tries to massage life back into her inner thighs.
The rookie knows now is her chance, and she needs to capitalize before she lets the match carry on for too long. Every moment favors not only the wily veteran but the lighter woman with more endurance. Alejandra catches her breath for only a moment before getting back to work. As she rises to her feet, she grabs a handful of Alia’s raven tresses and uses that as a handle to bring the ailing Arab to her feet.
But before the Puerto Rican Spitfire can lock on a new hold, Alia digs down deep and lashes out, reaching up to drag her claws across Alejandra’s face and eyes. You can build your muscles in lots of places, but the eyes are always a weak point. As Alejandra howls and instinctively shields her face, the Jewel of Jordan forces her still-pained legs to move, running past the blinded woman to hit the opposite ring ropes, building moment for when she comes back, hops up, and grabs Alejandra’s head. Momentum and speed take over as Saad spikes Alicea’s head onto the canvas with a leaping one-handed bulldog.
The FAWN faithful explode into renewed cheers and boos, the first for the match’s intensity, even in its early moments, and the boos for Saad’s revival. Still, both women are down for the moment, Alejandra’s head and neck screaming in pain as she kicks the mat and Alia trying to recover from her own injuries. There’s no double count-out, not this time, and all Al can do is keep a careful eye on both women as they start the painful rise to their feet.
Alejandra rolls onto her stomach which takes her to the far ropes by the time Alia drags herself to the strands on the opposite side of the ring. Both of the exotic beauties use the ropes to their advantage, and both rise almost in tandem, pulling themselves to a vertical base. Despite the hard match, the spark that arcs across the ring as they lock eyes is no less diminished. That staredown only lasts a moment before Alia lets out a war cry and charges, clearly looking to use her superior speed to take down the powerhouse before she can react.
A match prior, Alejandra wouldn’t have seen this coming or she would have tried to tackle Alia head-on, but the rookie has learned at least a few lessons. Instead of eating the oncoming clothesline, she bends down at the last moment, catching Alia in the gut with one broad shoulder, and heaves the Jewel of Jordan over the top rope and into a sickening crash into the steel cage. The Arabian beauty bounces off and drops unceremoniously onto the apron, while the Puerto Rican sags down to one knee, still spent from the back-and-forth action.
As Alejandra collects herself, she turns to a still-groaning Alia sprawled out on the apron. The very recent memory of her neck hotshotted over the top rope flashes in Alejandra’s mind, so instead of going over the top rope, she simply grabs one of Alia’s wrists and one of her ankles under the bottom rope and slides the languishing beauty back into the ring proper.
But she doesn’t stop there. Alicea drags Alia like a sack of potatoes close to the nearest corner. Throwing the olive-skinned arm and leg down to the canvas, Alejandra takes a deep breath, nods to herself, then mounts the turnbuckle. It is a high-risk maneuver, but this match isn’t going to be one by caution. When Alejandra reaches the top turnbuckle, she steadies herself and glares down at Alia’s beaten form and heaving chest. Crossing her chest for luck, the Spitfire gathers her resolve, tenses, then launches herself up and off the turnbuckle, powerful legs giving her impressive height before she turns into a pin-point top rope elbow drop.
BIG ELBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2rpdhqrmz4
Alia only realizes her peril at the very last moment, but by then, it’s too late. Alejandra’s elbow slams down hard into the center of Saad’s impressive chest right before the rest of her fit frame crashes down. Saad’s legs jack-knife from the tremendous impact, and Alicea manages to catch one of those raised stems as she leans back into a pin. Al is right there, sliding into position to count!
ONE...
TWO…
TH-NO!
Like a parched desert wanderer reaching for a canteen, Alia’s arm thrusts upward at 2.5, getting a shoulder off the mat before she collapses back down. Though Alejandra tries to resist the bubbling frustration inside her, she can’t resist slamming her palms into the mat as she starts to rise.
And then a glint of light off steel catches her eye. As Alicea rises, her eyes follow that glint to the top of the cage. The FAWNatics, already chanting her name, catch that look, and a renewed volley of cheers boom through the arena, practically begging the Spitfire to go to the top of the cage. Alejandra scowls, weighs the risk versus the reward for a split-second, then makes a decision.
First, to make sure she doesn’t crash and burn. Alejandra lets out a cry of fury and leaps up one more time, dropping one more elbow right down on the beaten Arab. Alia’s massive juggs bounce and ripple from another sharp impact as she convulses from the hit, but it seems that is all she can muster from the assault. When the Puerto Rican rises this time, she looks satisfied. This will work, she tells herself, and then, this grueling series of battles will end.
When Alicea rises this time, she makes for the turnbuckle again, but this time, when she gets to the top, she then begins to scale the cage. The crowd erupts into cheers with every inch she scales, until she reaches the reinforced corner of the cage. An expectant rush falls over the FAWNatics as the muscular beauty carefully mounts the corner of the steel cage and then stands up to her full height. A thrill rushes up her spine, a mixture of fear and excitement as she looks down at the distant, splayed-out form of her hated opponent, and then, with a whispered prayer, Alejandra hops off the cage, ready to drop an elbow from Heaven to drive the devilish heel straight back to Hell.
Maybe it is that final rattle of the cage that reaches Alia’s brain, but something at that very moment seems to bring the Jewel back to awareness, and her eyes widen at the Caribbean Crush’s leap. With utter desperation, Saad suddenly kicks off the mat and rolls, throwing her entire body barely to the side just as Alejandra would have hit, leaving the powerhouse to crash and burn most spectacularly onto the canvas.
Again, if this was a normal match, Carpenter would have begun to administer a double count out, and that may have been how this match ended. However, in the cage and under these rules, Alia and Alejandra are allowed to lie on the canvas past when the ten count would have ended. The Desert Flower is the first to her feet, Alejandra still curled in a ball, her arm, shoulder and ribs clearly hurt. After the high-risk fail, Alicea can only moan in pain as the Jewel of Jordan rubs her chest standing over the Puerto Rican Spitfire.
The battle has taken a toll on both women, Alia though didn’t just leap from twenty feet in the air on to thinly padded boards. Even with the Desert Flower pulling her up, it is hard for Alejandra to even stand, but after several attempts, Saad does get her foe upright and moves her towards the ropes. The Jewel of Jordan forces the Powerhouse’s head down and shoves her head through the middle ropes, Alejandra’s head slamming into the chain links of the cage. With the Puerto Rican woman hanging on the middle strand, Saad steps through the ropes and begins to pull Alicea out to the ring apron with her.
“You are nothing but a jackal, trying to take down the Lioness,” Alia taunts as she pushes Alejandra face and boobs first into the steel cage. Keeping her opponent pressed against the metal links, Alia hammers forearms into the powerfully built woman’s back. Taking hold of the sweat soaked long black hair, Alia then pushes Alicea’s face into the cage and pulls it back and forth across the fencing.
Alejandra groans and brings her good arm up to try to push off from the cage. She can’t overcome the lack of use of her other arm, as Alia continues to rake her face across the metal barrier. The FAWNatics boo and jeer, they would love for Al Carpenter to step in, but the referee can only standby helplessly and watch like the rest of the FAWNatics.
Alia moves Alejandra to one of the poles that hold the sections of chain links and slams Alejandra face first into that. The Powerhouse’s legs go weak, and if not for Alia holding her up she would have collapsed to the ring apron. The Jewel of Jordan turns Alicea back towards the ring and again feeds her through the ropes, stopping when the middle rope is at her waist. With her enemy balanced on the ropes, the Desert Flower climbs back into the ring. The wicked lightweight takes the Powerhouse in a front facelock and backs up a few steps until Alejandra hangs from the ropes by her ankles. The Spitfire gets her good arm up and tries pushing Alia away, but the attempt makes the Desert Flower laugh as she drops her rival face first into the canvas with the hangman’s DDT.
HANGMAN’S DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxyNU6gOUwc
Alejandra lies motionless, except for one boot tapping the mat. Alia rises and holds her arms out to the side and looks up as if the FAWNatics show worship her. Moving back to the flattened Spitfire, Saad drops to her knees and rolls the rookie on to her back. Then she performs the cockiest pin possible, though a favorite of some of the crowd. Alia puts her palms on Alejandra breast, pushes down, and waits for Al to make what she thinks is a functionary three count.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Somehow, the Puerto Rican Spitfire refuses to be pinned. The pained look on her face tells the viewers that it wasn’t easy, but still she won’t give up. Alia cannot believe it, the FAWNatics, and Al Carpenter look shocked too. The Desert Flower turns on the tall referee, demanding that it was a three count.
Al can only hold his hands out and say, “She got her shoulder up, what do you want me to do?”
Alia snaps something in her native tongue, “TOZ-FEEK”
The short break does help Alejandra, but not enough as Alia stomps her boot down on the already injured shoulder. The Spitfire is normally tight lipped to pain, but this time she wails like a child and rolls away trying to protect the shoulder and limb that already show a nasty bruise.
“You wanted to come and face the women? You should have stayed in your hovel, taking money from chubby tourists,” Alia berates Alejandra, and shows she’s studied the rookie and knows her background.
Alia proceeds to hair haul the Powerhouse back to her feet. Shifting her left hand to the back of Alejandra’s neck, Saad pulls her head forward. The Jewel of Jordan’s right arm comes up like a scythe cracking the Puerto Rican across the jawline with a European Uppercut. Alejandra falls backwards into the ropes, and then to the FAWNatics’ horror, they see the Powerhouse’s arms fold around the top rope as the middle rope comes up and traps both of her arms in the ropes.
Out of instinct, Al moves to free Alejandra, but the Desert Flower stops him, “NO! You are not to interfere!”
The man has to agree as his role in the match tonight is greatly diminished. Alia straddles Alejandra’s hips and slides her hands up sweaty abs to the halter holding the Spitfire’s breasts. With a few hard yanks, Saad strips her trapped foe to the waist, then sinks her fingers into the soft flesh. Alejandra can only howl in pain as Alia maul, chops, slaps and twists her tits for what seems for minutes, but is actually only about thirty seconds. The Jewel of Jordan steps back to admire her handy work when, out of desperation, Alejandra’s boot comes up, catching Saad between the thighs.
Alia whimpers and drops to her knees, hands wedged between her thighs. Alejandra tries to free herself, but can’t seem to manage. Turning to Al, the rookie, nearly begging, says, “Get me out of here!”
Al is clearly torn. Part of him clearly wants to help, the sense of fair play and decency that makes him a top-notch referee pushing him that way. But, on the other hand, the only real rule of this match is that there are no rules. Which is doing his job better? A short moment later, he grimaces and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, Alejandra,” he says, though it’s clear he’s still torn. “I’ve got to call this down the middle.” Al expects some kind of fire or venom from the battered beauty, but instead, Alejandra lets out a pained laugh.
“I can respect that,” she gets out, and then grits her teeth. She’ll have to do this the hard way, and there isn’t much time. Saad’s bruised womanhood isn’t going to keep her down for long, and Alicea begins to push, twist, and slip, torturous groans escaping her lips as her damaged arm grinds in the twisted cables. The crowd catches on to the moment and starts to cheer, urging Alejandra to get free before Alia can rise, her bare breasts heaving under the exertion.
Speaking of the Jewel of Jordan, she manages to bite down on the fire in her groin and flops over onto her chest, slowly pushing up to her hands and knees. Every act of impudence from the infidel dog only makes her angrier, and there is a great debt to be paid. From the ropes, Alejandra lets out a cry of agony that snaps Saad’s eyes up, and the source of it is clear, for the Spitfire has just wrenched her arms free from their prison. As Alia pushes up to one knee, Alejandra falls on her generous ass, clutching her now-twice-damaged arm to her side.
The sight infuriates the Desert Princess, and she uses that rage to fuel herself, shoving up to her feet before her foe is even gingerly to her knees. Alia rushes forward and meets Alejandra with a vicious backhand right across the cheek. The Latina’s head snaps back, sending fresh pain through her neck along with a spray of spittle, then the Hawk sinks her talons into her foe’s raven tresses, painfully pulling her up by the hair. Not giving Alicea even a moment’s respite, Saad shifts her grip from the hair to the strongwoman’s good arm to sling her across the ring with an Irish whip.
Alejandra doesn’t move.
Battered and bruised all over, the Powerhouse’s legs are still in surprisingly good shape, and with tensed muscles, she resists the pull by broadening her stance, a grim look on her face. Alia glares daggers at her bedraggled foe, almost in disbelief that she still is resisting after all the damage and humiliation, and just redoubles her efforts to sling the bigger woman across the ring.
But this time, her pull is met by a counterforce as, with a desperate roar, Alejandra pulls back with all her remaining strength. Instead of sending the Latina for a ride, the Arab beauty finds herself suddenly pulled back in, right into a tremendous short-arm clothesline with Alicea’s tortured right arm.
The all-out haymaker blow almost tears the Jordanian princess’s head clear off, knocking her ass over teakettle. The impact is so sudden and strong that Alia’s already strained bikini top slips and tears half off, then the last ties snap as her bountiful breasts are flattened under her on the canvas.
Not that the blow does Alejandra any favors either. Strained muscles, jammed joints, and bruises scream at being called into action, and the tanned beauty lets out a shriek of pain as she herself falls to her knees after the blow. Perhaps worse, Alicea’s ribs groan with every twist and pull on the side she landed on, and each breath is painful. Though Alia is flattened, only capable of kicking weakly as she tries to recover, the Spitfire can only seethe in pain, clutching her wounded wing to her pained side.
And Al can only watch. Both women are moving, and there are no double countouts in the match, nor any referee stoppage.
Alia pushes over onto her back, her tremendous bare breasts heaving with each breath, just as Alejandra seems to master her pain enough to start to crawl over toward the Desert Huntress’s head. Despite her own pain, Saad flashes a cruel smirk at Alejandra, pushing up weakly on one elbow.
“Stupid, stubborn dog,” she spits out. “You can’t win, you know you can’t, and with every moment you drag this farce on, I promise to turn into threefold moments of pain and torture when I win.”
For a split-second, Alejandra pauses, now sitting on her calves near Alia’s face. Sweat drips down her face, her body screams in agony, and reality sets in. She closes her eyes, and the crowd murmurs. Maybe the Puerto Rican’s resolve is broken after this grueling match. Maybe she’s going to give up to try to spare herself further pain.
But when her eyes open, there’s the familiar fire in them, and her lips curve into a grim smile. “Maybe you’re right, Princess Punta. Maybe I can’t win as banged up as I am.” The admission is both painful… and freeing. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever give into you… and it doesn’t mean that I won’t make every moment until then a living hell for you.”
Alia is about to scream at the impertinence of the Latina when she is given another reason to scream as Alejandra snatches Saad by the hair, showing no regard for the normal rules of the ring as she claws at the Jewel’s scalp. Then, with painful deliberation, Alejandra wraps her powerful legs around Saad’s neck, working as fast as she can to lock in her signature Figure Four Necklock.
FIGURE FOUR NECKLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUBK7XbHSx0
The Jewel of Jordan rocks. causing her breast to roll around her chest as she tries to pry Alejandra’s legs apart. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse pumps all her efforts into her legs, allowing her to clutch her arm and rub her ribs. The FAWNatics think that Alicea may have the Desert Flower to the point of submission as the match has been brutal on both sides. Alia’s face is glowing a red shade and covered in sweat, but the veteran keeps her composure, planning her escape.
The bronzed skinned lightweight waits and times the pulses of Alejandra’s legs, then suddenly rolls her hips and turns both women over onto their stomachs. The Spitfire curses, with her arms tucked in, she couldn’t block the roll, and now Alia is able to push down on her legs and spread them enough to pop her head free.
Alejandra tries to look back over her shoulder as Saad pins her crossed legs to the canvas and puts her shin on the ankles of the Spitfire. Alia shakes her matted hair out, placing her hands on the Puerto Rican’s firm buttocks, sliding her hands around to lift her hips off the mat. Alejandra tries moving her legs, but Alia has all her weight on her crossed ankles, and with one arm, she can’t drag herself away. The Jewel of Jordan brings her right hand back over the Spitfire’s buttocks and between her legs.
AAAHHH! Alejandra cries out as Alia’s fingers dig into the woman’s shorts. The rookie again trapped in the Desert Flower’s claw hold, the Spitfire buries her face into the canvas groaning. The Jewel of Jordan can be seen twisting her grip causing Alejandra to mewl in pain, but she refuses to submit when Al asks her.
The Desert Flower pulls her hand back after feeling that she’s broken the Powerhouse down enough, and Alejandra lies on the canvas motionless. The topless Princess stands, taking a circling path up to the Spitfire’s head, breathing hard, and the sweat covered Alia raises her boot and stomps down on the damaged shoulder. Alejandra shouts in agony, flopping like a landed fish.
The crowd boo, but they worry the rookie has maybe reached her end. Alia takes her time recovering her strength, and during that time, Alejandra fails to move. Al kneels down beside the Spitfire checking on her, “If you can't go on, let me know.”
Alejandra turns her head to face the referee. “Don’t. Don’t do it.”
Respecting the rookie’s wishes, Al steps back again, but the worried look on his face grows. Alia has no sympathy for her foe, Saad doesn’t feel any pity for a wrestler that doesn’t know when she’s beat. Reaching down, the Desert Flower pulls Alicea’s right arm out to the side, putting one hand on her wrist and the other on her shoulder. Alejandra mutters, “No” but Saad drops her shin down across the arm and holds it there, grinding her shin on the limb.
The Puerto Rican Powerhouse faces in a mask of pain, her boots drumming the canvas as Saad grinds the injured limb. Alia taunts, “You can’t beat me with both arms, how do you expect to survive with one?”
Again, Alia works the hold for nearly a minute, the match now closing in on twenty minutes. Alejandra can’t even pull her right arm back in, which allows the Desert Flower to turn and place her hands on the broad back of the rookie. Focusing on the already injured body parts, Alia pulls her leg back and rams her knee pad into Alejandra’s ribs and side boob, then repeats the attack twice more.
Alia rolls the limp Powerhouse over onto her back, the Desert Flower cups Alejandra’s breast pushing them together pushing them down on them as she goes for a cover.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Alejandra shoots her good arm into the air and knees Alia in the hip at the same time keeping the match going.
There is no pity in Alia as she swings around covering Alejandra’s face with her undercarriage trapping the Powerhouse in a reverse facesit. The Spitfire is able to keep a shoulder off the mats, but she suffers a wicked tit mauling at the hands of the Jewel of Jordan.
Alejandra’s legs kick wildly, she uses her good arm to try and shove Alia off of her, but the Desert Flower pauses her breast mauling only long enough to pin the limb under her shin and then continues to tweak Alicea’s nipples, twisting them like nobs on and old radio. After tormenting the Spitfire’s breasts for nearly a minute, Alia sends a trio of balled fists into the other brunette’s rock-hard abs.
Alia stands, wiping her hands on her bottoms as she looks down on the Puerto Rican Spitfire and taunts, “Little cur, has it set in that you are nothing compared to my radiance?”
Alejandra wants to fire back, she wants to stuff a fist down the smug Princess Puta’s throat, but now her body insists on staying motionless as the damage is mounting.
The Desert Flower jumps over the prone brunette and leaps on to the second rope. Arching her back, Alia sails through the air turning over in a perfect springboard moonsault, a slight variation of her Jordanain Press. Alejandra wills herself to move, her brain screaming at her body to obey, and finally it does as she pulls up her legs to her chest. Saad comes crashing down on hard knees and flops off, holding her stomach as she rolls across the ring. The FAWNatics are going nuts, urging Alejandra to her feet, but even though pulling up her knees saved her, she still was under Alia when she came down, and it knocked some of the wind from her.
Al Carpenter is nearly forgotten in the last few minutes’ moves in checking both brunettes. He circles out around the pair and watches with the rest of the fans.
With painful slowness, both women start to stir. Alia flops over on her back, her arms still wrapped around her wounded midsection, while Alejandra does the opposite, grimly flopping over onto her stomach and impressive-if-bruised rack. Seething and panting, the Latina shoves up onto her good arm and knees while the Arab princess rolls over once more, almost to the ropes to help her rise. It’s almost like watching the dead rise from their graves, and the raucous crowd is on their feet as Alejandra somehow manages to get to her feet first, her shoulder a mess of bruising as her damaged arm is still tucked up against her side.
Alia has gotten up to one knee, hanging on to the ropes for dear life, but the sudden thumping of boots on canvas makes her look up. Her eyes widen when she sees the Spitfire charging at her. Alejandra is digging down to the very bottom of the barrel, throwing every last bit she has at her foe, and the Jewel of Jordan is just a hair too slow to react. As she pushes up, trying to dive away at the last second, the fit Puerto Rican slams a running big boot right between Saad’s bouncing breasts.
The impact flattens her juggs as it throws Alia into the ropes, and as she rebounds, Alejandra deals out a huge, open-handed chop right across the Arab’s reddening chest with her good hand. While not as strong as her injured main arm, the power is still impressive, sending the exotic beauty’s massive rack jiggling even as the hit floors her.
Alia is left languishing on the canvas, trying to massage the agony in her gut and her chest, but Alejandra is little better, sagging against the strands. It almost looks as if she is going to collapse regardless of the ropes’ support, but the Spitfire manages to keep her feet, clearly feeding off the cheers and shouts of the FAWNatics. Pushing off the ropes, Alejandra staggers over to the floored Arab, trying to think of a way to finish her with the tools she has left. Her right arm is near useless, her ribs are creaking, her neck still twinges, and she’s past exhaustion.
But she forces herself to keep fighting. With one last desperate idea, Alejandra snatches the aching Alia off the canvas, plucking the Desert Flower up by the hair with her good hand. Wincing as she has to use her damaged arm, the Puerto Rican Powerhouse sucks in a deep breath and stuffs Saad’s head between her thighs. One last big move, that’s what she needs to win this match, and there’s no way she could pull off a Starstorm lumbar check in her condition.
So she loops her arms, biting her lips to choke down the yelp of pain, cinching her bad arm around Alia’s waist by the expedient of grabbing the wrist with her good arm and holding on tight. It’s a testament to willpower, raw muscle, and sheer stubborn pride that Alejandra, with a gutwrenching cry, manages to pull Alia up until her stems are vertical, starting to kick as the Jewel of Jordan comes to in a perilous position, her pendulous breasts hanging down. For a brief moment, Alejandra’s grip loosens, and it looks like she might not be able to keep a hold of her slippery foe… but then she abruptly drops down onto her perfect ass as she brings Alia down into a straight piledriver!
PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuIL2PvqJPk
Saad spasms as her head slams into the unyielding canvas, and she flops to one side, while Alicea lets out a scream of pain, the shudder through her injured arm from the slam doing her no favors. While Alia looks to be semi-conscious as she sprawls out on the may, Alejandra too falls back on her back, clutching her wounded shoulder with her good hand as she tries to master the pain long enough to make the pinfall. It takes a few precious seconds before the Spitfire can manage to bite down the pain, roll herself over, and drag herself with her one strong arm over the Desert Huntress’s battered form for a lateral press.
Al leaps into position to start his fair count, the crowd building in anticipation, hoping beyond hope that the rookie has found a road to victory.
ONE!...
TWO!...
THRE…! NO!
At what has to be a 2.9 count, Alia suddenly comes to life, just barely managing to buck one shoulder up off the mat, much to the chagrin and boos of the crowd. Alejandra can’t even find the strength to push herself back to sit on her calves at this point. It’s all she can do to roll off her foe, lying flat on her back as her chest heaves and sweat drips down her half-naked form.
Again, there is no ten count for the women, but still, before Al would have reached that mark, Alia rolls her sweat covered body over and starts pushing up. Alejandra, still breathing heavy, looks over and groans, there is no way Alia should be getting back to her feet. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse thinks she’s in twice as good of shape as the Princess, but still, it’s the veteran that is getting to her feet first even after the piledriver. Alicea has trained her body to perfection for lifting and cross-fit exercises, but it’s dawning on her that Alia has taken all that time to work on wrestling. The thought sends a shiver through the Spitfire, the Jewel of Jordan has the experience on her and that means she’s prepared to take more punishment.
Alia’s head is still spinning a bit as she gets to her feet and swoons, the fans think she might fall, but the Desert Flower steadies herself. Seeing Alejandra starting to rise, she lashes out with her foot, kicking the Spitfire in the stomach and sending her rolling. Alia wobbles a bit, but this rookie has been annoying her too long. It’s time to dominate and show everyone this muscle bound girl isn’t at the level of the Jewel of Jordan.
Alejandra is still in a ball on the canvas when Saad reaches down and sinks her claws into the sweaty mess of Alejandra’s long black locks. The Desert Flower tucks the Spitfire’s head under her arm, then grasps the back of Alejandra’s knee with her other hand. Fans cry for the Puerto Rican Powerhouse to break free as Alia’s hands clasp together, locking the other brunette in the standing cradle. The Jewel of Jordan lifts her trapped foe and drops her straight down on the back of her head nailing the Djinn’s Blessing.
Djinn’s Blessing:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZS_gTvrw8o
Al moves to make a count, but Alia doesn’t hold the cradle, letting Alejandra loose to flop into a starfish, arms and legs fanned out as the Powerhouse’s eyes flutter trying to hold on to consciousness. The Jewel of Jordan rolls up Alicea’s half naked body and pulls her right arm between the short but powerful Desert Flower’s thighs. Saad takes Alejandra’s left arm, pulling it behind the Spitfire’s own head as Alia holds it with both hands and starts to bring the rookie’s face up to the bountiful cleavage.
Fans boo and jeer, as Alejandra is trapped in the Amman Anaconda. Alia looks out at the infidels and sneers as she rides out what should be Alicea’s final spasms before darkness takes her.
Legs kick and her body rocks, but Alejandra’s face remains in the sweltering sweaty darkness of Alia’s bosom. It takes nearly a minute before the Spitfire goes still, and even then, the Jewel of Jordan doesn’t release the hold. Finally, after a long pause she does open her legs allowing Al to check the girl's arm. Lifting the limb, Carpenter releases and it falls limp to the canvas.
A second time, Alejandra’s arm falls with a THUMP.
The final time, Al even gives it a small shake before releasing it and the crowd hope, but again it hits the mat. Carpenter turns calling for the bell.
DING… DING… DING!
The Ring announcer makes it official, “YOUR WINNER OF THE CAGE MATCH...THE JEWEL OF JORDAN… ALIA SAAD!”
The steel cage remains in place, but on the FAWNtron, a timer appears, set at ten minutes. It’s Alia’s winner’s stakes, all the time she needed to humiliate the rookie in front of the FAWNiverse. Before it starts, though, pushing out from behind the curtain come the two Jinxes. Trixie Decker and J!nxx, both are dressed for battle in their ring gear.
TRIXIE DECKER:
J!NXX:
Heading to the ring, the pair glare at the Jewel of Jordan. Alia moves to the side of the ring closest the ramp, standing with hands on hips, her half naked body sweat covered and shining. Trixie and J!nxx are cut off by Merle and Reginald as they uphold the stakes made by both women before the match: no interference for ten minutes.
Trixie yells, “When that cage comes up, we’re coming in!”
Alia spits, “Weak infidels,” before looking at J!nxx. “Now, I will humiliate your woman!”
Turning on her heel, Saad moves back to Alejandra’s unconscious form and grips the sides of her sweat soak bottoms, working them down her muscular legs. As she starts, the clock begins to tick down.
The Desert Flower rubs her boot on top of Alejandra’s womanhood, trying to bring the unconscious Spitfire back to her senses. After all, it’s no good humiliating a woman that doesn’t know she’s being humiliated in the Jewel of Jordan’s mind. Slowly, Alicea does come too, and groans as it sinks in that she was defeated by the veteran again.
Alia smirks, pushing Alejdandra’s head to the side so she can see J!nxx and Trixie standing at ring side. “You have a special audience to see your humiliation up close.”
Alejandra lets out a mix of a sigh and a groan, not surprised Miko would come down to try to save her, but wishing Miko had listened and stayed away. Alia walks around the Puerto Rican, looking her over, and places a boot on her left breast and grinds down on the orb.
Alejandra hisses in pain but doesn’t want to give Alia any satisfaction in the next nine minutes. Why is she toying with me?, the Puerto Rican beauty thinks, but then the Desert Flower straddles her head. As she lowers her undercarriage down, Alia pulls her briefs to the side exposing her womanhood as she mounts Alejandra’s face.
Just before she makes the seal, Alia whispers just low enough that only her defeated enemy can hear, “I have a surprise for your friends too.”
Alejandra starts to panic, but she is trapped in sweaty darkness, and now, Alia begins to work her tits, twisting, squeezing, and slapping at the orbs. There is no way to tell J!nxx and Trixie that Alia has a plan for them, the words would just come out as muffled screams into Alia’s labia. Saad’s hips gyrate atop the Powerhouse’s nose and mouth as she runs her nails over Alejandra’s washboard abs.
When the raking stops, Alejandra is light-headed, and a chill runs over her body as she feels the Desert Flower’s hand run over her womanhood. Outside the ring, J!nxx stares coldly at the Jewel of Jordan, Miko boiling with anger and the need for revenge. Alia slaps Alicea’s mound lightly a few times and begins to rub her fingers over the black-haired beauty’s labia before forcing fingers inside the Spitfire.
The FAWNantics are going nuts, many booing and jeering Alia, but a large portion cheer on the Desert Flower, as they love the stakes at the end of FAWN matches, no matter who wins. Alejandra’s body betrays her as her hips begin to move to match Alia’s motion of her fingers. The Jewel of Jordan’s own hips move with an extra intensity as the time ticks off the clock.
J!nxx doesn’t take her eyes off of the pair in the ring, but Trixie looks back over her shoulder several times to see the timer that moves too slowly. “If that was any slower it would be running backwards,” Trixie snaps.
With less than a minute left, Alejandra’s body spasms, and she sprays around Alia’s fingers still inside her. It’s hard to tell if Alicea is still conscious as the movement of her body could just be Alia’s grinding, but then, the Desert Flower arches her back and lets out a long, shuddering moan. The time is nearly spent, and Merle and Reginald move aside and head towards the door they are to unlock when the timer is done. Inside, Al leans in a corner, trying to make people forget that he’s even in the ring.
The clock is down to the final ten seconds, the crowd counting down as Alia stands and re-adjusts her bottoms. Alejandra seems to be out cold, her face covered in sweat and Alia’s juices.
9… 8… 7… 6… 5...
Alia looks over the heads of the pair of Jinxes, drawing the attention of some fans as they see a woman in a black corset and boy cut shorts climb over the railing and rush Miko and Trixie.
Just as the buzzer goes off and Merle and RAW3 start to unlock the cage, the unknown woman hits J!nxx in the back, driving her face first into the steel cage. Trixie turns as she catches the movement out of the corner of her eye but gets a boot to the solar plexus before she can respond. As Decker stoops over from the hard kick, the intruder takes Trixie’s head and drops her with a DDT. Back on her feet before J!nxx can recover, the woman, bigger than either Trixie or J!nxx, catches Miko around the head, snapping her up into what looks at first like a vertical suplex, but instead of falling back, she holds the Asian at the apex before dropping straight down into the thin ringside mats with a Brian Buster.
In the ring, Alia collects her top and both pieces of Alejandra’s outfit before calmly, regally walking to the door. As she exits the cage, she smiles as the newcomer rounds the corner and bows to Alia before embracing the Jewel of Jordan. Alia walks over and retrieves a microphone.
“Introductions are in order. May I present… From Aqaba, Jordan... Bodyguard to the royal family… The Scimitar of Jordan, The Desert Snake, The Desert Shadow… Leema Rafiq!
LEEMA RAFIQ:
The woman bows again, as the crowd boo. Those that follow FAWN’s transactions page saw the night before a small blurb about the signing of Leema, but there was no additional information and Google searches came up empty.
The pair begin to walk towards the back, but as they pass Trixie, Alia orders Leema to pick her up. The Desert Snake hooks a double chickenwing on the still-dazed Jinx, as the Desert Flower digs her fingers into one side of Trixie’s face and her thumb into the other, looking into her eyes. “Your time is coming.”
Alia snatches her hand away and chops the brunette’s cleavage once before turning and heading up the ramp, Leema drops Decker back to the floor and follows the Jewel of Jordan from the arena.
DROP THE CAGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mM0QCRaFKzU
An army of ring crew rush forward as the Cage settles into place, they begin lashing the structure to the ring making sure it stays secure. It takes only a few minutes before the head crew many turns and gives the thumbs-up signal, and referee Al Carpenter climbs the stairs and begins inspecting the inside area. Outside FAWN referee’s Merle and Reginald Ashley Worthington III inspect the outside, Reg carries the thick chain and lock that will secure the only door once the combatants enter.
The crowd at Red, White, and Bruised gets on their feet when the lights shift and smoke begins to roll across the stage like a fog. On the FAWNtron the arid image of a desert scene is quickly filled by time-lapse growth of Desert Flowers. The fans are put in the mind of a Bazaar in Morocco by the unmistakable music that heralds the arrival of the Desert Flower.
Desert Ecstasy:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgDIUNOV6dI
Desert Ecstasy is exactly what the Jewel of Jordan is. The arena darkened and colored lights swing around wildly and, emerging from a puff cloud of smoke, the Desert Flower, Princess Alia Saad member of the royal family of Jordan, appears on the stage. For her battle tonight, Alia’s shapely frame was clad in a brown vest over a two-tone brown bikini with Arabic scrolled on the seat of her bottoms in a deep, arterial red. Her pads are a similar red, as are her brown boots with Arabic scrolled along the side. The Desert Flower ignores the jeers and boos of the fans as they are the common rabble beneath her station.
The Ring Announcer makes the introduction, “This next match is a CAGE MATCH! To a Pin Fall or Submission, the Cage will not be opened for ten minutes after the victor is declared. Introducing first, From Amman, Jordan…She stands 5 foot 3 inches tall and weighs in tonight at 121 pounds…She is the Jewel of Jordan…The Desert Flower…ALIA SAAD!”
ALIA SAAD:
The Arabian beauty’s hips swaying and bosom jiggling as she makes her way down the ramp. Fans hold signs out, taunting the Desert Flower, “Alejandra’s gonna Crush YOU!", but still the Jordanian gives no sign she’s even aware the masses are in attendance. Alia’s dark eyes locked on the ring as she makes a lap around the steel structure, her pace measured and calm, but not slow. Her long dark hair hangs loose over her shoulders. She finishes her lap and only now turns to the FAWNatics and gives them a dismissive smirk. The Desert Flower shrugs the vest off and folds it neatly before handing it over to the ring attendant standing nearby.
Climbing the steps to the ring apron, Alia wipes her boots before entering the door. With just enough room to walk, she moves to the center of the ropes and waits. Al, having completed his inspection of the structure, moves over and opens the ropes for the Princess. That does get him a nod of approval from the Royal. Saad strolls around the ring, checking the steel with her eyes as she readies to face the Puerto Rican Powerhouse again, in this final match of their feud.
As the music shifts from enchanting Arabic tones to the bouncing beat of Caribbean rock, the patriotic crowd pops hard as the FAWNtron fills with the colors of the Puerto Rican flag before exploding into digital fireworks.
SOY YO:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxWxXncl53U
As Alia’s opponent bursts into the view, the announcer’s voice booms across the arena. “Annnnd her opponent, from Bayamón, Puerto Rico… at 5 foot 4 inches and 136 pounds… the Puerto Rican Spitfire… ALEJANDRA ALICEA!”
ALEJANDRA ALICEA:
To the delight of the FAWNatics, Alejandra Alicea bursts through the red, white, and blue curtains and onto the entrance ramp. As always, the bronzed beauty is in incredible shape, something she puts on display as she shakes out her raven tresses and spreads her chiseled arms to the crowd. Though she still has a smile for the crowd, her jaw is set and her eyes narrowed as she scans over the immense metal structure in which she’ll do battle with the Jewel of Jordan.
Alicea pauses as she usually does when she enters the ring, but this time, it isn’t as much for the fans to appreciate her physique as it is to gather her strength of will. After three months of clashes, this match will prove, one way or the other, who will come out on top in a definitive fashion, and she questions for just a moment what will happen. If she wins, what exactly will she do to Alia to repay what humiliation she has inflicted on her… and if Alejandra loses, can she stay strong through whatever Saad’s sadistic mind has in store?
If the crowd sees that moment of introspection, they don’t care, no doubt focused on the exotic beauty’s fit body on display for their appreciation. She is decked out in her traditional ring gear: a halter-type style sports top that hugs her breasts with the motif of the Puerto Rican flag while highlighting her sculpted back and shoulders and high-cut blue Lycra shorts that show off her washboard abs and powerful legs. Short wrestling boots, taped wrists, and bicep bands, the right side red and the left side white, round out her apparel.
With a sharp breath, the Spitfire pulls herself out of her own head and simply focuses on the steel cage and her opponent. She breaks into a jog, clapping outstretched hands with the fans as she goes, and as she makes it to ringside, Alicea gets an extra bit of time to connect with the fans as she makes her way to the one entrance into the imposing steel cage. Merle holds the door open for her, and she gives him a nod as she walks up the ring steps and into the cage.
As Alejandra slips through the ring ropes, Merle closes up the cage door while Reginald gets to work, ensuring the entrance is well-chained. As opposed to her usual entrance, Alejandra doesn’t mount a turnbuckle to flex to the crowd. Instead, her fierce gaze never leaves Alia as she simply backs into her corner to stretch out her toned body. It looks as if the Caribbean Crush is focused entirely on business tonight, and considering what is at stake, it might be the wisest decision that the rookie can make.
Not that the cage isn’t different enough, but it comes with some different rules, so Al calls Alia and Alejandra from their corners. Al gives a nod and launches into an explanation of the changes for this match, “Ladies, you both agreed to this, but I’m going to go over the rules a final time. This is no disqualification, no holds barred. I’ll be here just to count pinfalls and to judge a submission by verbal, tap, or knockout. There are no rope or corner breaks, you’ll just have to find your own way out of those. The Cage is in play, but leaving the cage does not count as winning the match, it must be a pinfall or submission. Any questions?”
The Puerto Rican Powerhouse and the Desert Flower remain silent and begin backing towards their corners glaring at each other. Al takes a deep breath. “Good talk,” he says to no one.
DING! DING! DING!
At the sound of the bell, Alejandra charges out of her corner straight for the smaller woman. Alia, bouncing on her toes, circles, making the Caribbean Crush give chase. Circling, Alejandra tries cutting off the ring, but the Desert Flower is too quick to be cornered. The bigger woman slows going into a stalking mode. Finally, Alia closes in with arms raised, and the pair come together in a collar and elbow tie up. Instantly Alejandra’s power takes over, and while Alia struggles to keep her at bay, the Caribbean Crush marches the Jewel of Jordan into a corner. Alicea presses her body against Saad’s going chest to chest with the Princess.
The Puerto Rican Powerhouse growls, “I could keep you pinned up here all day.”
To prove her point, Alejandra jams her left hand under Alia’s jaw, pushing her head back over the top turnbuckle and pulls her body back away from the trapped brunette’s. Letting the Princess squirm for a moment, Alicea raises her right hand and brings it down slapping Alia’s massive cleavage. The Fiery Latina delivers two more jugg shaking slaps to the Desert Flower’s petals, until the Jewel of Jordan snaps her foot up between Alejandra’s legs stopping her cold.
EEEWWWWW! The sound is almost like a wounded animal as Alicea turns and wedges both hands between her thighs. Alia presses a palm to try to calm the stinging in her breasts, but also, she wants to take advantage of her position, so she steps up on to the second rope. Leaping from above, Alia catches Alejandra around the head as she falls and bulldogs the Spitfire into the canvas.
Alia taunts the rookie, “All that fitness, and still no brains.”
Alejandra is stunned but not out of it. She rolls away from the Princess and pushes back up to her feet, her eyes on fire. “You’re just a cheating punta!”
The Desert Flower doesn’t respond. Circling again, the pair of exotic beauties reach out for each other. Alia ducks under the lock-up with surprising speed and comes up behind Alejandra with a waistlock. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse looks amused as she claps down on each Saad’s wrist and easily breaks the locked hands. Alia tries pulling away, but the iron clamp-like grip of Alicea, the Caribbean Crush, only drops one wrist before spinning under the still held arm, turning into an arm ringer.
Alia is bent over and slaps at her shoulder to keep the blood moving down the limb as she tries to find the escape hatch. Alejandra isn’t going to let that happen, she cocks her free elbow and drives it down onto the Jewel of Jordan’s shoulder. Saad cries out as she’s driven down to one knee, pushing back up to her feet only for the Caribbean Crush to repeat the move. Alia whines out in pain sent back to a knee.
Alejandra twists the limb again and asks, “How ya doin’, Princess Punta?”
To show she’s just not powerful but also agile, Alejandra runs towards the turnbuckles pulling Alia along behind her. The Spitfire runs up the pads, hitting each one and then flips backward yanking Saad with her as the Springboard Arm Drag sends the Desert Flower halfway across the squared circle.
SPRINGBOARD ARM DRAG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4gRLIi30Fk
Alejandra rolls up to her feet and pauses just for a moment. When she sees her foe start to rise, she charges, arm extending as she closes in, and flattens the rising Desert Flower with a devastating clothesline. The FAWNatics cheer the Spitfire as she runs past the flatten foe and slowly turns. Alejandra growls as she sees Alia is getting back to her feet. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse steps back to grab the bit of fabric between the Jewel’s breast and then, shocking some fans, Alejandra grabs the front of Alia’s bottoms. With little effort, Alicea snatches Saad to chest level and, with a little grunt, presses the Desert Flower.
Holding the FAWN lightweight above her head, Alejandra walks to the ropes and a quiver develops in her arms and legs, but she heaves Alia out over the top rope. The Princess slams into the cage, bounces off, hits the ropes, and then slams into the ring apron. Outside the structure, many of the FAWNatics begin a “HOLY SHIT!” chant.
It’s clear how much Alejandra wants this win with how intense she is approaching this match. She would usually take this moment to give the FAWNatics a show with a flex of her biceps, but this time, she doesn’t. Instead, she moves right towards where the Desert Flower is groaning in a heap on the apron. By the time she stomps over, Alia, showing her own resilience, tries to get back to her feet, pulling herself up by the ropes, but she’s only up to her knees when Alejandra reaches down over the top rope, grabs a handful of the exotic princess’s long tresses.
With a grunt and a pull, the Puerto Rican Powerhouse pulls up with all her might, eliciting a howl from Saad as she is painfully brought to her feet. Still, Alia isn’t out of the match yet, and when Alicea lets go to grab a hold of the Arab’s head to throw her back into the ring, the Jewel of Jordan moves with desperate speed, ducking down under the grapple and slinging her shoulder hard into the Latina’s chiseled abs. Caught off-guard, Alejandra lets out a gasp as the blow winds her for a moment, and still partly bent over the ropes, the Desert Huntress snatches the head of her prey and drops down all the way to her butt, which hotshots Alejandra’s neck and chest right over the wrapped cable.
Alicea’s head snaps back, gasping as her hands go to her damaged throat. As she tries to breathe, she turns from the ropes, unaware of Alia regaining enough of her senses to go back on the attack. Like a soaring falcon, Saad uses the same top rope that she used to neck the bigger Latina to launch herself over the top rope with a clothesline right across the back of Alicea’s head. The precision impact sends another shuddering shock through Alejandra’s neck and drops her to the mat. Alia herself hits the canvas and rolls through, but instead of immediately hopping to her feet, the exotic beauty only comes up to her hands and knees, taking a moment to regroup herself.
But not for long. Alia is not one to let an opportunity pass, and she senses she has one. She shoves herself to her feet, still aching, but that pain is forgotten when she sees that the Caribbean Crush is still on her stomach, hands around the back of her aching neck protectively. Eager to take advantage, the Jewel of Jordan moves in before Alejandra can recover, slamming a boot into her foe’s back. The attack’s double purpose becomes clear almost immediately. It not only adds to Alejandra’s pain, but it also shifts her guard away from her neck.
With Alia’s real target now open, she immediately hops up and delivers a crushing knee drop right to Alejandra’s exposed neck and back of the head. The bigger woman’s body spasms from the sick impact, but somehow, she bites back the scream of pain that should come with that kind of shot, something that only seems to infuriate Alia. After she rolls off the Latina’s neck, the Jewel of Jordan tosses back her long hair, her eyes burning with anger as she straddles the muscular back of the Puerto Rican Powerhouse.
“You stubborn, stupid infidel!” she roars as her talons curl into Alejandra’s raven locks. Alia pulls back on that hair, which, with her weight on the Latina’s back, puts pressure on her wounded neck. “I will destroy you!” Saad abruptly slams Alejandra’s head right back into the canvas to punctuate her point, then immediately yanks back again. “I will humiliate you!” Again, she shoves the stunned woman’s head right back into the hard mat, then pulls up one last time. “And then I will make you worship me!”
This time, instead of driving Alejandra’s skull back into the mat, Alia clutches her foe’s chin with one hand before quickly pulling Alicea’s powerful arms over her knees. With a moment’s adjustment, the huntress pulls her foe into a crippling Camel Clutch!
CAMEL CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwOfBWdK1kI
Al Carpenter has been standing clear of the action until now kneels out in front of Alejandra, “Alejandra, do you want to submit?”
Alia leans back in the Camel Clutch putting more strain on the Caribbean beauties neck, but through gritted teeth, Alejandra growls, “NO.”
“Stubborn as a camel,” Alia shouts and drops one hand from Alicea’s chin down to the Puerto Rican’s halter top. Alejandra hisses, and her boots drum the canvas as the Desert Flower mauls her breast and, upon finding the nipple, underneath pinches and pulls. Saad then switches hands, continuing to pull on the Powerhouse’s neck as she mauls the left breast.
The breastwork allows Alejandra to slip an arm off of Alia’s thighs, but the Jewel of Jordan cuts off that escape by grabbing both of Alicea’s wrists and standing. She then puts her boot in the middle of the broad back and, after giving the trapped woman a second to realize what is happening, Alia shoves her foot down and releases the hold on Alejandra’s wrist, curb stomping the rookie into the thinly padded boards.
Saad moves around to her stunned enemy’s side, and dropping to her knees, Alia shoots a half-nelson on Alejandra and rolls her over to her back. Reaching down with her other arm, she pulls up a muscular leg as she presses chest to chest going for the win.
ONE...
TWO…
NO!
Alejandra winces as she kicks out, but she’s still in this fight. Alia glares at Al as he holds up two fingers, but even the Jewel has to admit her foe beat the count. The Desert Flower hair hauls the Caribbean Crush to her feet. Once vertical, Alia tucks Alejandra’s head under her arm and flips Alicea’s near arm over the Jewel’s shoulders. Taking a handful of the red, white, and blue shorts at the hip, Alia clearly plans to suplex the other brunette.
Alicea is still hurting, but her head is clearer. She hooks her boot inside Alia’s leg, blocking the suplex attempt. Saad feels a hand take hold of her own bottoms at the hip, and when Alejandra moves to reverse the move, Alia tries to repeat that self-same block, but it comes a moment too late. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse hoists the Desert Flower up, stops when Alia reaches the apex, and holds her there. Inverted, the blood rushes to Alia's head making her woozy as the Caribbean Crush continues to delay the inevitable end of the Delayed Vertical Suplex.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FWT4VsKL5c
It starts slow as Alejandra begins to lean back, but then it turns into a free fall as Alia crashes into the canvas. The impact knocks the Desert Flower up into a seated position for a moment, her hand going to her spine as she sinks back to the canvas. Alejandra takes the time to catch her breath laying on the mat. When she does tilt her head to make sure Alia isn’t moving, a twinge of pain shoots through her neck.
Rolling over and crawling on all fours towards her rival, Alejandra sinks a hand into the Desert Flower’s thick mane and brings her back to vertical. Alicea pushes Alia against the ropes, saying something in her native tongue which basically means, “I hope a fish goes up you womanhood.”
After facing Alia over several months now, Alejandra feels no regrets as she pushes the Jewel of Jordan’s head back with one hand and brings the wicked open hand slap down on her cleavage with the other. The big boobs jump around Alia's chest as she hisses in pain, but Alejandra gives her no time to recover before Irish whipping the Desert Flower towards the opposite set of cables.
Alia races across the ring, turns, rebounds off the ropes, and speeds back the direction she came from. Alejandra waits, and as the Jewel hits the cables, she takes off rushing towards the smaller woman. Leaving her feet, the Caribbean Crush leads with her right shoulder slamming into Alia’s chest and knocking the Jewel of Jordan on her ass.
Not able to help herself, Alejandra gives the crowd a double bicep flex as they cheer her on. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse stands over the mewling lightweight and shouts, “Cono!”
The Bayamon native bends down taking each of Alia’s ankles in a hand and lifts her legs up into a “V” shape. Alejandra places a boot at the bottom of the ‘V’ before she falls back pulling on both legs as she grinds her boot against the Desert Flower’s delicate bud. The Princess begins wailing and clutching at her own hair, but when Al offers to stop the match, he’s greeted with much cursing, and a clear no. It only takes Alejandra a few moments to realize, as satisfying as this move is, it won’t win the match. Removing her heel from Alia’s crotch gives the Jordanian princess a moment’s respite… but that moment ends violently when the Latina leaps up with a double leg drop right into Saad’s thighs. The blow spreads the lightweight’s legs and hyperextends the hips, and as Alejandra rolls off Alia and onto her calves, the Desert Flower is left howling, knees clamped together as she tries to massage life back into her inner thighs.
The rookie knows now is her chance, and she needs to capitalize before she lets the match carry on for too long. Every moment favors not only the wily veteran but the lighter woman with more endurance. Alejandra catches her breath for only a moment before getting back to work. As she rises to her feet, she grabs a handful of Alia’s raven tresses and uses that as a handle to bring the ailing Arab to her feet.
But before the Puerto Rican Spitfire can lock on a new hold, Alia digs down deep and lashes out, reaching up to drag her claws across Alejandra’s face and eyes. You can build your muscles in lots of places, but the eyes are always a weak point. As Alejandra howls and instinctively shields her face, the Jewel of Jordan forces her still-pained legs to move, running past the blinded woman to hit the opposite ring ropes, building moment for when she comes back, hops up, and grabs Alejandra’s head. Momentum and speed take over as Saad spikes Alicea’s head onto the canvas with a leaping one-handed bulldog.
The FAWN faithful explode into renewed cheers and boos, the first for the match’s intensity, even in its early moments, and the boos for Saad’s revival. Still, both women are down for the moment, Alejandra’s head and neck screaming in pain as she kicks the mat and Alia trying to recover from her own injuries. There’s no double count-out, not this time, and all Al can do is keep a careful eye on both women as they start the painful rise to their feet.
Alejandra rolls onto her stomach which takes her to the far ropes by the time Alia drags herself to the strands on the opposite side of the ring. Both of the exotic beauties use the ropes to their advantage, and both rise almost in tandem, pulling themselves to a vertical base. Despite the hard match, the spark that arcs across the ring as they lock eyes is no less diminished. That staredown only lasts a moment before Alia lets out a war cry and charges, clearly looking to use her superior speed to take down the powerhouse before she can react.
A match prior, Alejandra wouldn’t have seen this coming or she would have tried to tackle Alia head-on, but the rookie has learned at least a few lessons. Instead of eating the oncoming clothesline, she bends down at the last moment, catching Alia in the gut with one broad shoulder, and heaves the Jewel of Jordan over the top rope and into a sickening crash into the steel cage. The Arabian beauty bounces off and drops unceremoniously onto the apron, while the Puerto Rican sags down to one knee, still spent from the back-and-forth action.
As Alejandra collects herself, she turns to a still-groaning Alia sprawled out on the apron. The very recent memory of her neck hotshotted over the top rope flashes in Alejandra’s mind, so instead of going over the top rope, she simply grabs one of Alia’s wrists and one of her ankles under the bottom rope and slides the languishing beauty back into the ring proper.
But she doesn’t stop there. Alicea drags Alia like a sack of potatoes close to the nearest corner. Throwing the olive-skinned arm and leg down to the canvas, Alejandra takes a deep breath, nods to herself, then mounts the turnbuckle. It is a high-risk maneuver, but this match isn’t going to be one by caution. When Alejandra reaches the top turnbuckle, she steadies herself and glares down at Alia’s beaten form and heaving chest. Crossing her chest for luck, the Spitfire gathers her resolve, tenses, then launches herself up and off the turnbuckle, powerful legs giving her impressive height before she turns into a pin-point top rope elbow drop.
BIG ELBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2rpdhqrmz4
Alia only realizes her peril at the very last moment, but by then, it’s too late. Alejandra’s elbow slams down hard into the center of Saad’s impressive chest right before the rest of her fit frame crashes down. Saad’s legs jack-knife from the tremendous impact, and Alicea manages to catch one of those raised stems as she leans back into a pin. Al is right there, sliding into position to count!
ONE...
TWO…
TH-NO!
Like a parched desert wanderer reaching for a canteen, Alia’s arm thrusts upward at 2.5, getting a shoulder off the mat before she collapses back down. Though Alejandra tries to resist the bubbling frustration inside her, she can’t resist slamming her palms into the mat as she starts to rise.
And then a glint of light off steel catches her eye. As Alicea rises, her eyes follow that glint to the top of the cage. The FAWNatics, already chanting her name, catch that look, and a renewed volley of cheers boom through the arena, practically begging the Spitfire to go to the top of the cage. Alejandra scowls, weighs the risk versus the reward for a split-second, then makes a decision.
First, to make sure she doesn’t crash and burn. Alejandra lets out a cry of fury and leaps up one more time, dropping one more elbow right down on the beaten Arab. Alia’s massive juggs bounce and ripple from another sharp impact as she convulses from the hit, but it seems that is all she can muster from the assault. When the Puerto Rican rises this time, she looks satisfied. This will work, she tells herself, and then, this grueling series of battles will end.
When Alicea rises this time, she makes for the turnbuckle again, but this time, when she gets to the top, she then begins to scale the cage. The crowd erupts into cheers with every inch she scales, until she reaches the reinforced corner of the cage. An expectant rush falls over the FAWNatics as the muscular beauty carefully mounts the corner of the steel cage and then stands up to her full height. A thrill rushes up her spine, a mixture of fear and excitement as she looks down at the distant, splayed-out form of her hated opponent, and then, with a whispered prayer, Alejandra hops off the cage, ready to drop an elbow from Heaven to drive the devilish heel straight back to Hell.
Maybe it is that final rattle of the cage that reaches Alia’s brain, but something at that very moment seems to bring the Jewel back to awareness, and her eyes widen at the Caribbean Crush’s leap. With utter desperation, Saad suddenly kicks off the mat and rolls, throwing her entire body barely to the side just as Alejandra would have hit, leaving the powerhouse to crash and burn most spectacularly onto the canvas.
Again, if this was a normal match, Carpenter would have begun to administer a double count out, and that may have been how this match ended. However, in the cage and under these rules, Alia and Alejandra are allowed to lie on the canvas past when the ten count would have ended. The Desert Flower is the first to her feet, Alejandra still curled in a ball, her arm, shoulder and ribs clearly hurt. After the high-risk fail, Alicea can only moan in pain as the Jewel of Jordan rubs her chest standing over the Puerto Rican Spitfire.
The battle has taken a toll on both women, Alia though didn’t just leap from twenty feet in the air on to thinly padded boards. Even with the Desert Flower pulling her up, it is hard for Alejandra to even stand, but after several attempts, Saad does get her foe upright and moves her towards the ropes. The Jewel of Jordan forces the Powerhouse’s head down and shoves her head through the middle ropes, Alejandra’s head slamming into the chain links of the cage. With the Puerto Rican woman hanging on the middle strand, Saad steps through the ropes and begins to pull Alicea out to the ring apron with her.
“You are nothing but a jackal, trying to take down the Lioness,” Alia taunts as she pushes Alejandra face and boobs first into the steel cage. Keeping her opponent pressed against the metal links, Alia hammers forearms into the powerfully built woman’s back. Taking hold of the sweat soaked long black hair, Alia then pushes Alicea’s face into the cage and pulls it back and forth across the fencing.
Alejandra groans and brings her good arm up to try to push off from the cage. She can’t overcome the lack of use of her other arm, as Alia continues to rake her face across the metal barrier. The FAWNatics boo and jeer, they would love for Al Carpenter to step in, but the referee can only standby helplessly and watch like the rest of the FAWNatics.
Alia moves Alejandra to one of the poles that hold the sections of chain links and slams Alejandra face first into that. The Powerhouse’s legs go weak, and if not for Alia holding her up she would have collapsed to the ring apron. The Jewel of Jordan turns Alicea back towards the ring and again feeds her through the ropes, stopping when the middle rope is at her waist. With her enemy balanced on the ropes, the Desert Flower climbs back into the ring. The wicked lightweight takes the Powerhouse in a front facelock and backs up a few steps until Alejandra hangs from the ropes by her ankles. The Spitfire gets her good arm up and tries pushing Alia away, but the attempt makes the Desert Flower laugh as she drops her rival face first into the canvas with the hangman’s DDT.
HANGMAN’S DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxyNU6gOUwc
Alejandra lies motionless, except for one boot tapping the mat. Alia rises and holds her arms out to the side and looks up as if the FAWNatics show worship her. Moving back to the flattened Spitfire, Saad drops to her knees and rolls the rookie on to her back. Then she performs the cockiest pin possible, though a favorite of some of the crowd. Alia puts her palms on Alejandra breast, pushes down, and waits for Al to make what she thinks is a functionary three count.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Somehow, the Puerto Rican Spitfire refuses to be pinned. The pained look on her face tells the viewers that it wasn’t easy, but still she won’t give up. Alia cannot believe it, the FAWNatics, and Al Carpenter look shocked too. The Desert Flower turns on the tall referee, demanding that it was a three count.
Al can only hold his hands out and say, “She got her shoulder up, what do you want me to do?”
Alia snaps something in her native tongue, “TOZ-FEEK”
The short break does help Alejandra, but not enough as Alia stomps her boot down on the already injured shoulder. The Spitfire is normally tight lipped to pain, but this time she wails like a child and rolls away trying to protect the shoulder and limb that already show a nasty bruise.
“You wanted to come and face the women? You should have stayed in your hovel, taking money from chubby tourists,” Alia berates Alejandra, and shows she’s studied the rookie and knows her background.
Alia proceeds to hair haul the Powerhouse back to her feet. Shifting her left hand to the back of Alejandra’s neck, Saad pulls her head forward. The Jewel of Jordan’s right arm comes up like a scythe cracking the Puerto Rican across the jawline with a European Uppercut. Alejandra falls backwards into the ropes, and then to the FAWNatics’ horror, they see the Powerhouse’s arms fold around the top rope as the middle rope comes up and traps both of her arms in the ropes.
Out of instinct, Al moves to free Alejandra, but the Desert Flower stops him, “NO! You are not to interfere!”
The man has to agree as his role in the match tonight is greatly diminished. Alia straddles Alejandra’s hips and slides her hands up sweaty abs to the halter holding the Spitfire’s breasts. With a few hard yanks, Saad strips her trapped foe to the waist, then sinks her fingers into the soft flesh. Alejandra can only howl in pain as Alia maul, chops, slaps and twists her tits for what seems for minutes, but is actually only about thirty seconds. The Jewel of Jordan steps back to admire her handy work when, out of desperation, Alejandra’s boot comes up, catching Saad between the thighs.
Alia whimpers and drops to her knees, hands wedged between her thighs. Alejandra tries to free herself, but can’t seem to manage. Turning to Al, the rookie, nearly begging, says, “Get me out of here!”
Al is clearly torn. Part of him clearly wants to help, the sense of fair play and decency that makes him a top-notch referee pushing him that way. But, on the other hand, the only real rule of this match is that there are no rules. Which is doing his job better? A short moment later, he grimaces and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, Alejandra,” he says, though it’s clear he’s still torn. “I’ve got to call this down the middle.” Al expects some kind of fire or venom from the battered beauty, but instead, Alejandra lets out a pained laugh.
“I can respect that,” she gets out, and then grits her teeth. She’ll have to do this the hard way, and there isn’t much time. Saad’s bruised womanhood isn’t going to keep her down for long, and Alicea begins to push, twist, and slip, torturous groans escaping her lips as her damaged arm grinds in the twisted cables. The crowd catches on to the moment and starts to cheer, urging Alejandra to get free before Alia can rise, her bare breasts heaving under the exertion.
Speaking of the Jewel of Jordan, she manages to bite down on the fire in her groin and flops over onto her chest, slowly pushing up to her hands and knees. Every act of impudence from the infidel dog only makes her angrier, and there is a great debt to be paid. From the ropes, Alejandra lets out a cry of agony that snaps Saad’s eyes up, and the source of it is clear, for the Spitfire has just wrenched her arms free from their prison. As Alia pushes up to one knee, Alejandra falls on her generous ass, clutching her now-twice-damaged arm to her side.
The sight infuriates the Desert Princess, and she uses that rage to fuel herself, shoving up to her feet before her foe is even gingerly to her knees. Alia rushes forward and meets Alejandra with a vicious backhand right across the cheek. The Latina’s head snaps back, sending fresh pain through her neck along with a spray of spittle, then the Hawk sinks her talons into her foe’s raven tresses, painfully pulling her up by the hair. Not giving Alicea even a moment’s respite, Saad shifts her grip from the hair to the strongwoman’s good arm to sling her across the ring with an Irish whip.
Alejandra doesn’t move.
Battered and bruised all over, the Powerhouse’s legs are still in surprisingly good shape, and with tensed muscles, she resists the pull by broadening her stance, a grim look on her face. Alia glares daggers at her bedraggled foe, almost in disbelief that she still is resisting after all the damage and humiliation, and just redoubles her efforts to sling the bigger woman across the ring.
But this time, her pull is met by a counterforce as, with a desperate roar, Alejandra pulls back with all her remaining strength. Instead of sending the Latina for a ride, the Arab beauty finds herself suddenly pulled back in, right into a tremendous short-arm clothesline with Alicea’s tortured right arm.
The all-out haymaker blow almost tears the Jordanian princess’s head clear off, knocking her ass over teakettle. The impact is so sudden and strong that Alia’s already strained bikini top slips and tears half off, then the last ties snap as her bountiful breasts are flattened under her on the canvas.
Not that the blow does Alejandra any favors either. Strained muscles, jammed joints, and bruises scream at being called into action, and the tanned beauty lets out a shriek of pain as she herself falls to her knees after the blow. Perhaps worse, Alicea’s ribs groan with every twist and pull on the side she landed on, and each breath is painful. Though Alia is flattened, only capable of kicking weakly as she tries to recover, the Spitfire can only seethe in pain, clutching her wounded wing to her pained side.
And Al can only watch. Both women are moving, and there are no double countouts in the match, nor any referee stoppage.
Alia pushes over onto her back, her tremendous bare breasts heaving with each breath, just as Alejandra seems to master her pain enough to start to crawl over toward the Desert Huntress’s head. Despite her own pain, Saad flashes a cruel smirk at Alejandra, pushing up weakly on one elbow.
“Stupid, stubborn dog,” she spits out. “You can’t win, you know you can’t, and with every moment you drag this farce on, I promise to turn into threefold moments of pain and torture when I win.”
For a split-second, Alejandra pauses, now sitting on her calves near Alia’s face. Sweat drips down her face, her body screams in agony, and reality sets in. She closes her eyes, and the crowd murmurs. Maybe the Puerto Rican’s resolve is broken after this grueling match. Maybe she’s going to give up to try to spare herself further pain.
But when her eyes open, there’s the familiar fire in them, and her lips curve into a grim smile. “Maybe you’re right, Princess Punta. Maybe I can’t win as banged up as I am.” The admission is both painful… and freeing. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever give into you… and it doesn’t mean that I won’t make every moment until then a living hell for you.”
Alia is about to scream at the impertinence of the Latina when she is given another reason to scream as Alejandra snatches Saad by the hair, showing no regard for the normal rules of the ring as she claws at the Jewel’s scalp. Then, with painful deliberation, Alejandra wraps her powerful legs around Saad’s neck, working as fast as she can to lock in her signature Figure Four Necklock.
FIGURE FOUR NECKLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUBK7XbHSx0
The Jewel of Jordan rocks. causing her breast to roll around her chest as she tries to pry Alejandra’s legs apart. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse pumps all her efforts into her legs, allowing her to clutch her arm and rub her ribs. The FAWNatics think that Alicea may have the Desert Flower to the point of submission as the match has been brutal on both sides. Alia’s face is glowing a red shade and covered in sweat, but the veteran keeps her composure, planning her escape.
The bronzed skinned lightweight waits and times the pulses of Alejandra’s legs, then suddenly rolls her hips and turns both women over onto their stomachs. The Spitfire curses, with her arms tucked in, she couldn’t block the roll, and now Alia is able to push down on her legs and spread them enough to pop her head free.
Alejandra tries to look back over her shoulder as Saad pins her crossed legs to the canvas and puts her shin on the ankles of the Spitfire. Alia shakes her matted hair out, placing her hands on the Puerto Rican’s firm buttocks, sliding her hands around to lift her hips off the mat. Alejandra tries moving her legs, but Alia has all her weight on her crossed ankles, and with one arm, she can’t drag herself away. The Jewel of Jordan brings her right hand back over the Spitfire’s buttocks and between her legs.
AAAHHH! Alejandra cries out as Alia’s fingers dig into the woman’s shorts. The rookie again trapped in the Desert Flower’s claw hold, the Spitfire buries her face into the canvas groaning. The Jewel of Jordan can be seen twisting her grip causing Alejandra to mewl in pain, but she refuses to submit when Al asks her.
The Desert Flower pulls her hand back after feeling that she’s broken the Powerhouse down enough, and Alejandra lies on the canvas motionless. The topless Princess stands, taking a circling path up to the Spitfire’s head, breathing hard, and the sweat covered Alia raises her boot and stomps down on the damaged shoulder. Alejandra shouts in agony, flopping like a landed fish.
The crowd boo, but they worry the rookie has maybe reached her end. Alia takes her time recovering her strength, and during that time, Alejandra fails to move. Al kneels down beside the Spitfire checking on her, “If you can't go on, let me know.”
Alejandra turns her head to face the referee. “Don’t. Don’t do it.”
Respecting the rookie’s wishes, Al steps back again, but the worried look on his face grows. Alia has no sympathy for her foe, Saad doesn’t feel any pity for a wrestler that doesn’t know when she’s beat. Reaching down, the Desert Flower pulls Alicea’s right arm out to the side, putting one hand on her wrist and the other on her shoulder. Alejandra mutters, “No” but Saad drops her shin down across the arm and holds it there, grinding her shin on the limb.
The Puerto Rican Powerhouse faces in a mask of pain, her boots drumming the canvas as Saad grinds the injured limb. Alia taunts, “You can’t beat me with both arms, how do you expect to survive with one?”
Again, Alia works the hold for nearly a minute, the match now closing in on twenty minutes. Alejandra can’t even pull her right arm back in, which allows the Desert Flower to turn and place her hands on the broad back of the rookie. Focusing on the already injured body parts, Alia pulls her leg back and rams her knee pad into Alejandra’s ribs and side boob, then repeats the attack twice more.
Alia rolls the limp Powerhouse over onto her back, the Desert Flower cups Alejandra’s breast pushing them together pushing them down on them as she goes for a cover.
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Alejandra shoots her good arm into the air and knees Alia in the hip at the same time keeping the match going.
There is no pity in Alia as she swings around covering Alejandra’s face with her undercarriage trapping the Powerhouse in a reverse facesit. The Spitfire is able to keep a shoulder off the mats, but she suffers a wicked tit mauling at the hands of the Jewel of Jordan.
Alejandra’s legs kick wildly, she uses her good arm to try and shove Alia off of her, but the Desert Flower pauses her breast mauling only long enough to pin the limb under her shin and then continues to tweak Alicea’s nipples, twisting them like nobs on and old radio. After tormenting the Spitfire’s breasts for nearly a minute, Alia sends a trio of balled fists into the other brunette’s rock-hard abs.
Alia stands, wiping her hands on her bottoms as she looks down on the Puerto Rican Spitfire and taunts, “Little cur, has it set in that you are nothing compared to my radiance?”
Alejandra wants to fire back, she wants to stuff a fist down the smug Princess Puta’s throat, but now her body insists on staying motionless as the damage is mounting.
The Desert Flower jumps over the prone brunette and leaps on to the second rope. Arching her back, Alia sails through the air turning over in a perfect springboard moonsault, a slight variation of her Jordanain Press. Alejandra wills herself to move, her brain screaming at her body to obey, and finally it does as she pulls up her legs to her chest. Saad comes crashing down on hard knees and flops off, holding her stomach as she rolls across the ring. The FAWNatics are going nuts, urging Alejandra to her feet, but even though pulling up her knees saved her, she still was under Alia when she came down, and it knocked some of the wind from her.
Al Carpenter is nearly forgotten in the last few minutes’ moves in checking both brunettes. He circles out around the pair and watches with the rest of the fans.
With painful slowness, both women start to stir. Alia flops over on her back, her arms still wrapped around her wounded midsection, while Alejandra does the opposite, grimly flopping over onto her stomach and impressive-if-bruised rack. Seething and panting, the Latina shoves up onto her good arm and knees while the Arab princess rolls over once more, almost to the ropes to help her rise. It’s almost like watching the dead rise from their graves, and the raucous crowd is on their feet as Alejandra somehow manages to get to her feet first, her shoulder a mess of bruising as her damaged arm is still tucked up against her side.
Alia has gotten up to one knee, hanging on to the ropes for dear life, but the sudden thumping of boots on canvas makes her look up. Her eyes widen when she sees the Spitfire charging at her. Alejandra is digging down to the very bottom of the barrel, throwing every last bit she has at her foe, and the Jewel of Jordan is just a hair too slow to react. As she pushes up, trying to dive away at the last second, the fit Puerto Rican slams a running big boot right between Saad’s bouncing breasts.
The impact flattens her juggs as it throws Alia into the ropes, and as she rebounds, Alejandra deals out a huge, open-handed chop right across the Arab’s reddening chest with her good hand. While not as strong as her injured main arm, the power is still impressive, sending the exotic beauty’s massive rack jiggling even as the hit floors her.
Alia is left languishing on the canvas, trying to massage the agony in her gut and her chest, but Alejandra is little better, sagging against the strands. It almost looks as if she is going to collapse regardless of the ropes’ support, but the Spitfire manages to keep her feet, clearly feeding off the cheers and shouts of the FAWNatics. Pushing off the ropes, Alejandra staggers over to the floored Arab, trying to think of a way to finish her with the tools she has left. Her right arm is near useless, her ribs are creaking, her neck still twinges, and she’s past exhaustion.
But she forces herself to keep fighting. With one last desperate idea, Alejandra snatches the aching Alia off the canvas, plucking the Desert Flower up by the hair with her good hand. Wincing as she has to use her damaged arm, the Puerto Rican Powerhouse sucks in a deep breath and stuffs Saad’s head between her thighs. One last big move, that’s what she needs to win this match, and there’s no way she could pull off a Starstorm lumbar check in her condition.
So she loops her arms, biting her lips to choke down the yelp of pain, cinching her bad arm around Alia’s waist by the expedient of grabbing the wrist with her good arm and holding on tight. It’s a testament to willpower, raw muscle, and sheer stubborn pride that Alejandra, with a gutwrenching cry, manages to pull Alia up until her stems are vertical, starting to kick as the Jewel of Jordan comes to in a perilous position, her pendulous breasts hanging down. For a brief moment, Alejandra’s grip loosens, and it looks like she might not be able to keep a hold of her slippery foe… but then she abruptly drops down onto her perfect ass as she brings Alia down into a straight piledriver!
PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuIL2PvqJPk
Saad spasms as her head slams into the unyielding canvas, and she flops to one side, while Alicea lets out a scream of pain, the shudder through her injured arm from the slam doing her no favors. While Alia looks to be semi-conscious as she sprawls out on the may, Alejandra too falls back on her back, clutching her wounded shoulder with her good hand as she tries to master the pain long enough to make the pinfall. It takes a few precious seconds before the Spitfire can manage to bite down the pain, roll herself over, and drag herself with her one strong arm over the Desert Huntress’s battered form for a lateral press.
Al leaps into position to start his fair count, the crowd building in anticipation, hoping beyond hope that the rookie has found a road to victory.
ONE!...
TWO!...
THRE…! NO!
At what has to be a 2.9 count, Alia suddenly comes to life, just barely managing to buck one shoulder up off the mat, much to the chagrin and boos of the crowd. Alejandra can’t even find the strength to push herself back to sit on her calves at this point. It’s all she can do to roll off her foe, lying flat on her back as her chest heaves and sweat drips down her half-naked form.
Again, there is no ten count for the women, but still, before Al would have reached that mark, Alia rolls her sweat covered body over and starts pushing up. Alejandra, still breathing heavy, looks over and groans, there is no way Alia should be getting back to her feet. The Puerto Rican Powerhouse thinks she’s in twice as good of shape as the Princess, but still, it’s the veteran that is getting to her feet first even after the piledriver. Alicea has trained her body to perfection for lifting and cross-fit exercises, but it’s dawning on her that Alia has taken all that time to work on wrestling. The thought sends a shiver through the Spitfire, the Jewel of Jordan has the experience on her and that means she’s prepared to take more punishment.
Alia’s head is still spinning a bit as she gets to her feet and swoons, the fans think she might fall, but the Desert Flower steadies herself. Seeing Alejandra starting to rise, she lashes out with her foot, kicking the Spitfire in the stomach and sending her rolling. Alia wobbles a bit, but this rookie has been annoying her too long. It’s time to dominate and show everyone this muscle bound girl isn’t at the level of the Jewel of Jordan.
Alejandra is still in a ball on the canvas when Saad reaches down and sinks her claws into the sweaty mess of Alejandra’s long black locks. The Desert Flower tucks the Spitfire’s head under her arm, then grasps the back of Alejandra’s knee with her other hand. Fans cry for the Puerto Rican Powerhouse to break free as Alia’s hands clasp together, locking the other brunette in the standing cradle. The Jewel of Jordan lifts her trapped foe and drops her straight down on the back of her head nailing the Djinn’s Blessing.
Djinn’s Blessing:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZS_gTvrw8o
Al moves to make a count, but Alia doesn’t hold the cradle, letting Alejandra loose to flop into a starfish, arms and legs fanned out as the Powerhouse’s eyes flutter trying to hold on to consciousness. The Jewel of Jordan rolls up Alicea’s half naked body and pulls her right arm between the short but powerful Desert Flower’s thighs. Saad takes Alejandra’s left arm, pulling it behind the Spitfire’s own head as Alia holds it with both hands and starts to bring the rookie’s face up to the bountiful cleavage.
Fans boo and jeer, as Alejandra is trapped in the Amman Anaconda. Alia looks out at the infidels and sneers as she rides out what should be Alicea’s final spasms before darkness takes her.
Legs kick and her body rocks, but Alejandra’s face remains in the sweltering sweaty darkness of Alia’s bosom. It takes nearly a minute before the Spitfire goes still, and even then, the Jewel of Jordan doesn’t release the hold. Finally, after a long pause she does open her legs allowing Al to check the girl's arm. Lifting the limb, Carpenter releases and it falls limp to the canvas.
A second time, Alejandra’s arm falls with a THUMP.
The final time, Al even gives it a small shake before releasing it and the crowd hope, but again it hits the mat. Carpenter turns calling for the bell.
DING… DING… DING!
The Ring announcer makes it official, “YOUR WINNER OF THE CAGE MATCH...THE JEWEL OF JORDAN… ALIA SAAD!”
The steel cage remains in place, but on the FAWNtron, a timer appears, set at ten minutes. It’s Alia’s winner’s stakes, all the time she needed to humiliate the rookie in front of the FAWNiverse. Before it starts, though, pushing out from behind the curtain come the two Jinxes. Trixie Decker and J!nxx, both are dressed for battle in their ring gear.
TRIXIE DECKER:
J!NXX:
Heading to the ring, the pair glare at the Jewel of Jordan. Alia moves to the side of the ring closest the ramp, standing with hands on hips, her half naked body sweat covered and shining. Trixie and J!nxx are cut off by Merle and Reginald as they uphold the stakes made by both women before the match: no interference for ten minutes.
Trixie yells, “When that cage comes up, we’re coming in!”
Alia spits, “Weak infidels,” before looking at J!nxx. “Now, I will humiliate your woman!”
Turning on her heel, Saad moves back to Alejandra’s unconscious form and grips the sides of her sweat soak bottoms, working them down her muscular legs. As she starts, the clock begins to tick down.
The Desert Flower rubs her boot on top of Alejandra’s womanhood, trying to bring the unconscious Spitfire back to her senses. After all, it’s no good humiliating a woman that doesn’t know she’s being humiliated in the Jewel of Jordan’s mind. Slowly, Alicea does come too, and groans as it sinks in that she was defeated by the veteran again.
Alia smirks, pushing Alejdandra’s head to the side so she can see J!nxx and Trixie standing at ring side. “You have a special audience to see your humiliation up close.”
Alejandra lets out a mix of a sigh and a groan, not surprised Miko would come down to try to save her, but wishing Miko had listened and stayed away. Alia walks around the Puerto Rican, looking her over, and places a boot on her left breast and grinds down on the orb.
Alejandra hisses in pain but doesn’t want to give Alia any satisfaction in the next nine minutes. Why is she toying with me?, the Puerto Rican beauty thinks, but then the Desert Flower straddles her head. As she lowers her undercarriage down, Alia pulls her briefs to the side exposing her womanhood as she mounts Alejandra’s face.
Just before she makes the seal, Alia whispers just low enough that only her defeated enemy can hear, “I have a surprise for your friends too.”
Alejandra starts to panic, but she is trapped in sweaty darkness, and now, Alia begins to work her tits, twisting, squeezing, and slapping at the orbs. There is no way to tell J!nxx and Trixie that Alia has a plan for them, the words would just come out as muffled screams into Alia’s labia. Saad’s hips gyrate atop the Powerhouse’s nose and mouth as she runs her nails over Alejandra’s washboard abs.
When the raking stops, Alejandra is light-headed, and a chill runs over her body as she feels the Desert Flower’s hand run over her womanhood. Outside the ring, J!nxx stares coldly at the Jewel of Jordan, Miko boiling with anger and the need for revenge. Alia slaps Alicea’s mound lightly a few times and begins to rub her fingers over the black-haired beauty’s labia before forcing fingers inside the Spitfire.
The FAWNantics are going nuts, many booing and jeering Alia, but a large portion cheer on the Desert Flower, as they love the stakes at the end of FAWN matches, no matter who wins. Alejandra’s body betrays her as her hips begin to move to match Alia’s motion of her fingers. The Jewel of Jordan’s own hips move with an extra intensity as the time ticks off the clock.
J!nxx doesn’t take her eyes off of the pair in the ring, but Trixie looks back over her shoulder several times to see the timer that moves too slowly. “If that was any slower it would be running backwards,” Trixie snaps.
With less than a minute left, Alejandra’s body spasms, and she sprays around Alia’s fingers still inside her. It’s hard to tell if Alicea is still conscious as the movement of her body could just be Alia’s grinding, but then, the Desert Flower arches her back and lets out a long, shuddering moan. The time is nearly spent, and Merle and Reginald move aside and head towards the door they are to unlock when the timer is done. Inside, Al leans in a corner, trying to make people forget that he’s even in the ring.
The clock is down to the final ten seconds, the crowd counting down as Alia stands and re-adjusts her bottoms. Alejandra seems to be out cold, her face covered in sweat and Alia’s juices.
9… 8… 7… 6… 5...
Alia looks over the heads of the pair of Jinxes, drawing the attention of some fans as they see a woman in a black corset and boy cut shorts climb over the railing and rush Miko and Trixie.
Just as the buzzer goes off and Merle and RAW3 start to unlock the cage, the unknown woman hits J!nxx in the back, driving her face first into the steel cage. Trixie turns as she catches the movement out of the corner of her eye but gets a boot to the solar plexus before she can respond. As Decker stoops over from the hard kick, the intruder takes Trixie’s head and drops her with a DDT. Back on her feet before J!nxx can recover, the woman, bigger than either Trixie or J!nxx, catches Miko around the head, snapping her up into what looks at first like a vertical suplex, but instead of falling back, she holds the Asian at the apex before dropping straight down into the thin ringside mats with a Brian Buster.
In the ring, Alia collects her top and both pieces of Alejandra’s outfit before calmly, regally walking to the door. As she exits the cage, she smiles as the newcomer rounds the corner and bows to Alia before embracing the Jewel of Jordan. Alia walks over and retrieves a microphone.
“Introductions are in order. May I present… From Aqaba, Jordan... Bodyguard to the royal family… The Scimitar of Jordan, The Desert Snake, The Desert Shadow… Leema Rafiq!
LEEMA RAFIQ:
The woman bows again, as the crowd boo. Those that follow FAWN’s transactions page saw the night before a small blurb about the signing of Leema, but there was no additional information and Google searches came up empty.
The pair begin to walk towards the back, but as they pass Trixie, Alia orders Leema to pick her up. The Desert Snake hooks a double chickenwing on the still-dazed Jinx, as the Desert Flower digs her fingers into one side of Trixie’s face and her thumb into the other, looking into her eyes. “Your time is coming.”
Alia snatches her hand away and chops the brunette’s cleavage once before turning and heading up the ramp, Leema drops Decker back to the floor and follows the Jewel of Jordan from the arena.